CHAPTER 22 - My body does not define who I am. I’m still a man in my soul.

A week later they got a call the doctor wanted to see them to get the results of all the tests. George in his suit and tie returned to the doctors. The receptionist was kind enough to watch the baby while George and Ellen were in seeing the doctor.

George knew it wasn’t good news when they walked in and the doctor wouldn’t look him in the eye. He merely motioned for them to have a seat. They sat across from a grim-looking doctor as he reviewed the battery of tests performed on George one last time to see if there was anything he had missed.

He studied the papers in front of him while absentmindedly fiddling with his pen. He was in no hurry to give this nice couple the dire news. George and Ellen fidgeted in their cushioned seats waiting for the update.

Eventually, the doctor looked up and spoke to George, "Mr. Trousdale I have been doing this for over 27 years and I have never seen a case like yours. Taking your story at face value, I am confused with these lab results. I have worked with male transsexuals going through transition. Your lab results are what I would expect to see from a man who has been on long term hormone replacement."

"George you have been off the hormone drugs for several weeks. These tests don't show any significant change from the ones run by your GP. Though I didn't really expect anything else so soon. Testosterone levels are up slightly, but not so much that it might not be normal fluctuation. Scarily, these levels are much lower than the average WOMAN your age. Estrogen levels, on the other hand have come down, but are still above the normal range, even for a teenage girl at the peak of puberty. So, these results are about what I expected."

George spoke up, "Doctor, before, you mentioned the possibility of testosterone therapy, could that help now?"

He paused to consider. "I think we had best leave that up to nature. There is a risk associated with a testosterone supplement. The body seems to decrease production of that particular hormone when a supplement is administered. Right now, I would think we would want to encourage your body to produce as much as it is willing to on its own. Later, if that proves inadequate...". He looked down with a guilty expression, "Then it may be our last recourse. Again, those are decisions are best left to later."

Ellen reached over and took George’s hand.

The doctor looked up and pontificated, "As you know, slight amounts of estrogen are found in all men, likewise women have trace amounts of testosterone in their systems. The key is keeping the two in a natural balance."

The doctor looked over the top of his glasses and went on with his discourse. "As men age, their bodies tend to make increasing levels of estrogen with decreased production of testosterone. However, that doesn’t account for your levels. Your body appears to be producing the amount of estrogen of a normal woman your age. Conversely, your testosterone production is almost nonexistent. I can’t say with any certainty why, but those pills you dropped off are in all likelihood the culprit. They not only contained high levels of estrogen, but also have a strong antiandrogen component. My lab technicians have never seen anything like them. They aren’t anything standard and certainly not something FDA approved."

The doctor spoke to the both of them, "Testosterone levels as low as yours have correlated into higher rates of depression in men. Therefore, no matter what we decide to do, I am recommending George seek professional mental health care. My receptionist will give you several recommendations."

Thumbing through a medical book on his desk the doctor went on. "There is a growing need to understand the effects of abnormal levels of estrogen in men. I would love to follow your case and document your readings. Like all hormones, estrogen needs to be kept under control. Current research shows chronic health conditions are more likely to occur in men as a result of estrogen levels becoming too high."

George interrupted, "I have never intentionally taken estrogen."

The doctor nodded, "I believe you. I can only speculate that the frequent starting and stopping of hormones has thrown your body chemistry for a loop."

He added, "It is extremely difficult to control an imbalance of this sort, since female hormones generally dominate male hormones. Finding just the right balance would take time and a great deal of patience on George's part. It is even possible, actually it is very likely, that things would get worse before they got better. Even with that treatment it could take months before we see any change."

Switching his attention to Ellen he talked to her directly, "Mrs. Trousdale, I hope you don’t plan on having any more children. I’m afraid George’s testes are as barren as the Sahara Desert."

George slumped in his chair while Ellen’s grip on his hand tightened painfully. Hearing the doctor’s prognosis, George shuddered and had to suppress an urge to vomit. He felt his life was in a downward spiral.

"Are there any options doctor?", asked Ellen.

"We can surgically remove the breasts and give him testosterone injections to try to halt things. The problem is that, adding high doses of male hormones on top of his already high levels of female hormones is highly risky as none of us know the potential damage it could do.

"He might regain some of his secondary male characteristics, erections will even be a possibility. But there is a real health risk because of his estrogen production, so I don’t recommend that course of treatment at this time."

"What if I exercised and lifted weights?" George asked.

The doctor grinned, "You might regain some muscle tone. In my opinion, the best you could hope for is to look like a buff woman."

Surprisingly, out of the blue George asked the doctor. "Doctor, if I can’t go back to being a functioning male. What happens if I go the other way and start taking female hormones again?"

That took both the doctor and Ellen by surprise, he leaned back in his chair lost in thought. He eventually said, "If that is the way you want to go, I think that, as an alternative for a flooding your system with estrogen right now, I would recommend that you consider an anti-androgen as a first step. Those inhibit the action of testosterone and you can take female hormones later, if you want to go that direction. They will greatly increase the effectiveness of the estrogen and make your transition much faster."

The doctor rubbed his chin lost in thought before going on, "On second thought I wouldn’t recommend it. The risks to your physical health are just too great. I can’t be positive but I think you have developed about as far as you can on hormones alone. Even if you took large doses of estrogen, you’ll never be another Dolly Parton. If your goal is to simply be more feminine, I would suggest surgery. At present, I would describe your face as plain-looking. I am not a cosmetic surgeon but I would say you have good bone structure and, with just a little work by any competent surgeon, you would become attractive."

A dejected George sputtered at the doctor, "Let me see if I understand what you are telling me. I can’t go back to being man, and can’t go the other way without cosmetic surgery. What are you recommending?"

"You may not like this, but my medical advice is that we do nothing for now. We wait and let your body come to its own equilibrium."

"How long do you think that will take?"

"There is no way to tell. My best guess is a year, maybe two."

George slumped in his chair, "What am I going to do in the meantime?"

"Speaking as a man, not as a doctor, with appropriate clothing and makeup, I think you would make a passable looking woman."

The doctor smiled and decided to move things along by saying, "My secretary has a referral to the best counselor in town dealing with gender dysphoria. I strongly recommend you make an appointment to speak with him." He soon ushered them out of his office when they offered no further questions.

@ @ @ @

The ride home was done in silence except for the baby fussing in her car seat. Eventually, Ellen couldn’t take it any longer and had to say something.

She spoke as lovingly as possible, "Honey this isn’t the end of the world. What are we looking at? You living as a woman. So, what! It’s nothing you haven’t done."

He shrugged and the tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Oh, baby," Ellen pulled the car over and embraced him, "Just take a breath and think about this, we are a family and are all together. That is something."

As she held him tight, he took a breath and did his best to staunch the flow of tears. They hugged, and she could feel against her face the tears he was crying. To her surprise, she found herself crying as well, and they clung together as two lonely survivors seeking shelter from a storm. The tears gushed forth and stained her blouse.

Sitting in their car alongside the highway, Ellen tried again to cheer up her hubby, "Darling manifesting yourself as a woman won’t make you a second-class citizen. In spite of what you always thought as a man, women hold a great deal of power. Appearing as one you will experience that influence. Maybe it will be a few more years before a woman becomes President, but on a more personal level, you can use your perceived sex to get what you want."

"You want me to become a whore?" There was a tone of shock and scorn in his voice.

"No. I didn't mean the actual act, just show some leg and a little cleavage. With that sort of thing, even ugly woman can manipulate men by flashing a little boob. Men will be putty in your hands.

"You've really got a lot to learn. I will gladly be your guide. We will go down that trail together with me at your side. Look in my purse. You’ll find some tissues. Dry those tears, we will be home in a few minutes. Once we get there, things won’t seem so bleak."

Once they were home, Ellen fed Ariel and put her down for a nap. She returned to the lounge to find her husband sitting on the sofa, drinking wine directly from the bottle. She challenged him, "What the hell are you doing George?"

"Trying my best to get drunk. What does it look like?" His tone was low and sulky.

To prevent a potential fight, Ellen took charge of the situation by grabbing the bottle out of his hand as she said, "Give me that. Drinking is never the answer."

Then she put it to her mouth and drank what was left in several large gulps.

The alcohol hit her hard. Emotionally exhausted, she slumped onto the sofa next to her husband. Whatever George had it was catching because Ellen went into a major funk.

"Dear, I am sorry this is all my fault," she said, her voice breaking.

George sat next to her, watching as Ellen blubbered into tissues and then tossed them into a disgusting pile on the coffee table. George hugged her until she finally stopped crying except for a few sniffles.

Ellen felt better after a good cry, so she shuffled off to the bathroom to clean herself up a bit, while George fastidiously pushed the spent tissues into the wastebasket with a pen.

Now it was George’s turn to break down, with Ellen out of the room he had had a chance to think. He wondered if he would ever embrace any part of his masculinity again. Or was it dead and buried forever?

Ellen came back into the room as a tear formed in George's eye. He pushed it away because he feared that he would start blubbering again. Ellen found him with his head in his hands.

"George, tell me what you are thinking. It will make you feel better to get it off your chest."

"Ellen, I've been thinking. I'm stuck in a predicament. For the last six months or so, I have dedicated every waking moment to being the best woman I can be. I really think I am so far down that path I won’t be able to find my way back. Even if I could, would there now be a point in it.

"Ellen, do you realize even radical surgery won’t help me? My breasts can be removed, but with the drastic alterations caused by the hormones, I will never look like my old self again."

He stuttered, "Not completely in any case. The best I could hope for would be to look like a freakishly effeminate man. Everyone I deal with would wonder what sex I was. The one thing I am sure of is I am only attracted to woman."

Looking down at his chest he declared, "I am not sure what gender you would call me."

Ellen held him at arm’s length and stared him in the eye. "Dear, your sex is determined by your genitals. Your gender is determined by what’s between your ears and what is in your heart, not by what’s between your legs. If you think and feel like a man, then that is what you are despite what happens to your body!"

That temporarily made George feel better about his situation.

A fearful Ellen asked, "Do you blame me for your situation?"

George thought about her question for a few minutes before answering. "Honey, there is enough blame to go around. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t come up with the idea to disguise me as a girl. But looking back on it, I would not have survived prison if you hadn’t.
The way I see it, your plan actually saved my life."

Ellen smiled and added, "That’s sweet of you to say so. But aren’t you being a tad melodramatic?"

"Nonsense, I have more than that to thank you for. You orchestrated my escape. The publicity and manhunt resulting from my jail break energized the authorities to look into my case. Which, in the end, resulted in the apprehension of the dirt bag that set me up. When I look at the facts objectively, you are the one that is responsible for my freedom and clearing my name. I could never be upset at you for that."

Pushing up his breasts, he lightheartedly joked, "These are just a side effect of your efforts. Good or bad is yet to be determined. On the other hand, the Mexican government must shoulder some responsibility."

Seeing hope that she wasn’t being held responsible for the loss of his manhood, Ellen asked, "Are they the only ones you are upset with?"

"Not hardly, there are other actors in my life’s tragedy."

Ellen held him tight and commented, "I know Beth was worried you might be upset with her."

"Do I blame my sister? You bet! I talked to the FBI agent that she was so concerned about. He visited her so often, not to find me but he has a huge crush on her. As long as my case was open, he couldn’t do anything about it. So, he used me as an excuse to visit Beth. If she had opened her eyes, she could have realized the real reason for his interest. I could have come home after we crossed the border. In retrospect, Beth was the main reason I was stuck having to find ways to deal with the mundane life of a maid all these months and living the life of a Hispanic senorita. Living with my helpful Hispanic roommates resulted in me being doused with huge amounts of estrogen." His last comment was made with more than a little bit of sarcasm.

Ellen started to tear up, despite what he just said she couldn’t shake the feeling her husband was holding her responsible for his lost manhood.

George sat is a pool of self-pity, blaming his damned breasts for his problems. Ellen took him to bed in an attempt to raise his spirits. She comforted him and tried to help George come to terms with his girly appendages. She was sure that, over time, he would learn to appreciate their benefits, rather than loath the negatives.

@ @ @ @

The next few days were stressful and spent in thoughtful contemplation by both George and Ellen. He went through quite a bout of depression and denial. He threw himself the mother of all pity parties and refused to get out of bed for 48 hours. He was sure Ellen would leave him and he'd be left a freak. There were lots of tears and sad sleepless nights.

Ellen repeatedly reassured him that she wasn’t going anywhere. The thing that finally turned him around is when Ellen crawled into bed and wrapped her arms around him. Holding George firmly in her arms, Ellen pulled his head to her chest as she poured out her feelings. "Honey, I never pictured myself as gay or really wanted another woman in my life full time. But I love my husband and I will follow him to end of the world. I don't care what configuration his body has. I want to make him happy and feel good no matter what."

At that point, she cupped George’s right breast and lightly teased his nipple, causing it to stand up tall. He let out a sigh and nestled further into his wife’s arms.

She cooed in his ear, "I want you to be happy more than anything in the world. I will do whatever it takes to make that happen."

George went to sleep with a smile on his face. At dawn, he reached a decision. He got up and took a shower. Feeling refreshed, he joined Ellen at the breakfast table.

George sat down and took a gulp of his coffee, "Honey, what do you think I should do about the trial and after?"

Ellen sat up, excited that things might be about to change.

Ellen let him know her thoughts on the matter, "I’ve given this a lot of thought. Let’s be honest. In women's clothing, you look normal or almost so. In boy's clothes, not so much. It’s not your fault. I understand. To escape detection, you had to develop realistic female traits. You consciously forced yourself to adopt a feminine body language, with appropriate ladylike gestures and posture. Living with you these past few days, it is apparent that those have become second nature, almost to the point where it looks like you had been living as a female your whole life!"

Taking both of his hands in hers, she went on before she lost her nerve. "I’m afraid your macho male façade just won’t work now. You have lived the feminine lifestyle for so long that it appears to be ingrained in your DNA. Let’s be pragmatic, you appear to be a woman in every sense. There is no way you can go back to presenting as a man. I’m not trying to be mean. What I am trying to say is that I don’t want George to slink shamefully into court as a feminized man. Rather, I would love to see Heather, the confident woman, march proudly into that courtroom with her head held high. That would throw all those homophobic jerks off guard."

George sipped his black coffee slowly before responding. "I’ve made a decision. I don’t care about the past. The only thing that is important is where do I go from here. There is no way I am going to let that bastard of a boss of mine get off. I agree with you. A very feminine and confident Heather is the one who is going to be testifying in the courtroom.

"Will you help resurrect her from the ashes? I’m afraid George burned all her bras."

@ @ @ @

After a few minutes of deep contemplation, Ellen, the analytical businesswoman, announced, "Alright dear. We need a plan to turn plain old George into a first-class diva, without her crossing over to looking like a tramp."

Checking them off her fingers, "The first thing on our ‘to do list’ is get you your own makeup. Mine is not optimum for your swarthy complexion."

Going to finger two, "Then we need to assemble an appropriate wardrobe for a woman your age.

Moving to the next finger, "Of course, Heather will require her own lingerie and sleepwear. I won’t have you using mine. Next, we will need to select your signature scent. And lastly, every woman needs a large collection of pumps and heels to go with her outfits."

George shook his head in disbelief, "Ellen that sounds excessive for a one-day courtroom appearance."

Ellen waved her hand dismissively as if his concerns were foolish. She was almost giddy, "Dear I never do anything halfheartedly. Let’s pull out all the stops. Who knows where this one day may lead? We are going to have so much fun shopping for your trousseau and all the accessories that all girls must have. Being relatively new to the pink side, we have to atone for all the years that being a man retarded your feminine education."

A bewildered George replied, "I’m confused. I thought I would just borrow some of your things, slap on some lipstick and you could fix my hair. This is just a short-term thing. I have no intentions to continue this beyond the trial."

Ellen clapped her hands, "You really are clueless, aren’t you? Think about what happens to Heather after the trial. We need to be prepared for all contingencies."

George simply shrugged his shoulders unsure what response was expected of him.

"That reminds me, I need to make you an appointment with my hairdresser. We have so much to do and so little time to do it. Go take a shower," she directed.

With a furled brow he said, "Why, I just got out of the bathroom."

"Dear, you don’t understand. You may be clean but sleeping next to you I noticed you haven’t shaved your legs and underarms in quite some time. Take care of that while I run to the dollar store and pick you out something suitable to wear for shopping." Ellen was in her comfort zone. She enjoyed therapy shopping as much as the next woman, even more so when it was for her husband.

"Don’t give me that look George. This is in my wheelhouse. Put yourself in my hands and everything will fine."

George was finished with his second shower and shaving before Ellen returned. She swept into the house like someone on a mission to find her husband wearing a robe and sipping a cup of coffee. She sent him into the bedroom with her purchases while she fed the baby and enjoyed her own cup of coffee.

George came out from the bedroom wearing the floral dress Ellen had picked up, his makeup tastefully done for the day. Ellen looked critically at George's appearance and nodded in acceptance. "I knew that dress might not be all the flattering for you, but it is only temporary. I can see that I estimated your size properly."

After they both finished their coffee, Ellen put Heather’s hair in a ponytail. They loaded the baby, her stroller and a diaper bag into Ellen’s car and took off on their grand adventure with Ellen driving.

Their first stop was the largest mall in the area. After unloading the baby’s paraphernalia and loading the baby in her stroller. Ellen pushed the stroller and held Heather’s hand to calm his nerves. She led them right to the front of Leanne’s Hair and Makeup Studio. "Why do I have to go to a hair dresser?"

Ellen shook George's hand in a friendly manner. "We have to go to the salon. No lady would ever go out without being properly coiffured."

Heather was introduced to the pleasures of a beauty salon. He was pampered for the next hour. His hair was washed and cut in a pixie cut. Then he had his first profession makeover. It was Ellen’s intention to introduce Heather to the top of the line cosmetics administered by an expert. She insisted their licensed cosmetologist work on Heather's makeup. They left ninety minutes later, weighed down with a shopping bag containing sufficient concealer, skincare, eye, face, lips, and nail makeup to last a long time.

Heather thanked his wife by confessing, "The last year living as a housekeeper I was never able to look my best. It was hard enough being an ugly looking woman but I had to make do with all my makeup coming from the dollar store. As a maid, I couldn’t justify using my pittance of pay on quality stuff."

Ellen gave her husband a sympathetic look. "Dear, those days are over for you. From here on out, it’s my treat. Heather goes first class all the way in everything."

George was beginning to think that Ellen may have an ulterior motive, getting things that were needed well beyond what would be required for one day.

Then Ellen whisked them into the fragrance department. After testing several dozen perfumes, Ellen decided that the Caron’s Poivre scent was created with Heather in mind so they purchased a bottle plus some dusting powder.

Next on their sojourn was a stop in the shoe department. Ellen had Heather try on a mixture of shoes ranging from flats to 5-inch stilettos. They didn’t buy anything. Ellen explained they would come back after they decided on an outfit.

Next, Ellen lobbied Heather to look at woman’s dresses. Explaining that she thought Heather appearance should have a professional day look during her court. Getting Heather to the dress department was easier said than done. At times, she felt like a sheep dog herding her husband away from the siren song of the men's department.

She selected several classy dresses that, in her opinion, would be ideal for Heather and carried them to the changing rooms. Ellen had to actually push him into a fitting room and stood blocking the door, insisting that Heather try on each dress because she wasn’t moving until Heather complied. Once she was certain he had the dress on, she demanded that he come out onto the sales floor where she could see what Heather looked like in a fancy dress.

To placate his wife and get this ordeal over with, Heather tried on each selection and then sheepishly modeled them for her and anyone else wandering through the area.

Standing in front of Ellen, she had him turn in front of the bank of mirrors and walk a few steps so she could closely examine each ensemble. While he was sauntering back and forth, he thought, ‘She can bully me here in public I don’t want to make a scene; but wait until we get home. There was no way I am going into the courtroom wearing a dress.’

After he had paraded around and made a spectacle of himself, Ellen asked what he thought. He vetoed every option and refused to even discuss why. This got Ellen frustrated to the point she was getting antsy. If he wouldn’t wear a dress, she was forced to change tactics and had the store bring out a number of skirt and top combinations.

She demanded he try on a wide variety of skirts hoping to find something that would be appropriate and yet get his approval. Ellen felt a bit sorry for the frustrated sales lady who wore out a pair of shoes running back and forth. They went through all the available styles Ellen thought would look good on Heather, ranging from mini’s to full Midi pencil skirts, and then a knee length business skirt. As a last resort, she had him experiment with one that was ankle length. Heather remained steadfast in his refusal to wear either a dress or skirt.

Ellen finally had all she could take and led Heather by the hand to the food court where they could have a private tête-à-tête. That quickly turned into a full gob smacker of an argument over Heather wearing a dress to the trial.

Both antagonists had to consciously keep their voices down. Ellen was insistent that if Heather was going to make her big reveal, it was critical she should be as fashionable and feminine as possible. His last experience as a feminine man was a total disaster.

Ellen laid it out for him. He had to decide or get off the fence. Was he going to appear as a man or as a woman? The half and half persona just wasn’t going to cut it in a public setting. If he wanted to dress as a man at home that was one thing. But outside the house he had to make a commitment one way or another.

Her argument was so articulate he knew he had no other option but to concede. It took a while but George reluctantly conceded that point. However, he insisted that underneath all the paint and silk finery he was going to remain a man. He was only going to wear pants from this point forward, realistically they would be woman’s pants. By God they would still be pants!

Ellen unenthusiastically agreed to look at pantsuits. As they went through the racks of suits on display, Heather rejected all of them as being too girly. After the tenth ‘NO’, Ellen had a eureka moment. She pulled Heather aside and suggested, Alright dear, we can go your way. What do you think about Heather wearing a fashionable pair of jeans and a sweater to court?"

George thought about that for a nanosecond and agreed. Before they could shake on it, Ellen had a few conditions that she dropped on him. They were nonnegotiable if he wanted her help. Without waiting to hear her conditions, he agreed. George should have known he was a lamb being led to the slaughter. So happy he won the argument, he nonchalantly replied, "Sure whatever."

She detailed the conditions: 'He would have his jeans not an issue. However, they would be woman’s designer jeans.'

Ellen was insistent on the last stipulation. She would have the final say over everything else Heather wore for the trial. She wouldn’t tolerate any squabbling on her selections. It was her way or the highway to put it bluntly.

George thought wearing jeans was worth putting up with the other claptrap.

Heading back home, Ellen was happy as a clam, considering the trip a success. They may not have settled on an outfit, but she had acquired all of Heather's sizes. She would pop back to the mall and get what was needed later and spring it on her husband when it would be too late for him to do anything about it.